


Of Pride and Selflessness

by Yaoiflame9



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: Angst, Implied Slash, M/M, Political Alliances, Tentative alliances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 14:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaoiflame9/pseuds/Yaoiflame9
Summary: What if Paul von Oberstein had had the chance to talk to Reuenthal, who was about to turn against Reinhard? And how will the heterochromatic  fleet admiral react? Set when Reuenthal was a commissioner on Heinessen.“How are your eyes, Reuenthal?” asked Oberstein as if it wasn’t the most insensitive question one could ask. Reuenthal was mildly intrigued, but it was not entirely unexpected to hear such a question from a man so blunt. He knew exactly how to respond.“They’re fine, thanks for asking. How are -yours-?” He thought he had made quite a retort, intended to be taken as the most vicious jab, but Oberstein remained unshaken.





	Of Pride and Selflessness

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler to people who watched Die Neue These, but never watched the OVAs or read the novels.

Much to his displeasure, the man he abhorred the most, Chief Minister of Military Affairs, Paul von Oberstein, and that sleazy overweight Heydirch Lang had been sent to him as the Kaiser’s envoys. He saw as they were approaching him in front of a secluded, but good restaurant in Heinessenpolis. Once they were seated, the meeting began.    
  


“How are your eyes, Reuenthal?” asked Oberstein as if it wasn’t the most insensitive question one could ask. Reuenthal was mildly intrigued, but it was not entirely unexpected to hear such a question from a man so blunt. He knew exactly how to respond.    
  
“They’re fine, thanks for asking. How are  _ yours _ ?” He thought he had made quite a retort, intended to be taken as the most vicious jab, but Oberstein remained unshaken.    
  
“They’re fine, albeit in need of maintenance,” he simply replied, as if he had expected to be asked something like this. On second thought, it had not been entirely unpredictable how Oskar von Reuenthal would reply. There was a brief pause. Lang observed this exchange with utmost curiosity, sweating like a swine, barely able to conceal his desire to ask if they were ever going to order their meals. With the same eagerness he wondered what scheme Oberstein had in store this time.    
  
“Your eyes are not the problem,” Oberstein said, locking his artificial eyes with the young Fleet Admiral’s heterochromatic ones, and firmly held them in place. “You are aware of that?”   
  
“Whatever do you mean, Chief Minister?” Reuenthal asked, feigning curiosity.    
  
“The fact that they’re heterochromatic and how you think this affects your life. You don’t know how fortunate you are to be able to have them, and to be able to see,” Oberstein began, and Reuenthal did not understand where such a conversation would go. Had he not been sent as an envoy to him to talk him out of rebelling against the Kaiser? But nevertheless, he did not interrupt, no matter how much he wanted to, and how much anger was already starting to form in the pit of his stomach.    
  
“Your eyes are what makes people flock to you. They are a unique asset, don’t you think? Yet you choose to see them as some sort of curse. Just because your mother wanted to gouge them out to conceal her infidelity does not mean they are worthless. Her opinion is just one negative in a sea of positive ones,” he was talking in a calm, soothing manner Oskar von Reuenthal had grown to resent. He was beginning to lose his patience, for he did not see how his personal life had anything to do with the Chief Minister of Military Affairs and their meeting.    
  
“You’d better quickly get to the point, or else…” he grumbled, and Oberstein smirked - something so rarely seen - as if he had already proven some point. 

“Don’t worry, all of this will make sense in the end,” he reassured him, never dropping his gaze. Reuenthal’s eyes were full of hatred. “Your eyes or your upbringing also have nothing to do with your ability to become a good husband or father. Because you have the best conditions to become an excellent one.”   
  
To this, Reuenthal broke the gaze to laugh out loud, almost hysterically, but it seemed Oberstein had been prepared for such a reaction.    
  
“And how the hell do you know that! It’s none of your business either,” he growled.    
  
“I know because you have been handed the cheat sheet on how to be good at that. Aren’’t your parents the least qualified people to be called so? All you need to do is look at their example and do the exact opposite,” the older man said. “If only you’d give yourself a chance.”   
  
“Your problem aren’t your eyes, Reuenthal. Your problem is your arrogance and your pride. You are foolishly going to lose everything, even your life, if you stick to your principles.”   
  
“What gives you the notion that you know me at all?” asked Reuenthal bitterly. “Aren’t you the one who set me up in the first place?!”   
  
“Pridefulness has been one of the leading causes for failure. All of you admirals are full of it to the point when you hear the bitter truth, you’d rather ignore it and hate the messenger than admit you’re in the wrong. Just look around you. Open your eyes and see,” Oberstein said more sternly. The tension could be felt in the air and Lang was beginning to sweat profusely. The fact that Reuenthal never paid any attention to him did not provide any consolation, although it should have. He could swear electricity was beginning to form around the two Fleet Admirals. The restaurant staff, it looked to him, seemed to have also picked up on this and avoided approaching their table. His rumbling stomach was now an afterthought.    
  
“It is true that Lang and I did an investigation and discovered your affair with the cousin from the late Prince Lichtenlade’s house, which  _ is  _ a major offense to our Kaiser. No one set you up. You did it yourself. This lies solely with you, Reuenthal, this treasonous act. But even without that, I see you as a liability. That’s why I did a check on you. With no regards to how I personally feel, by all definitions, you  _ are  _ a liability,” to this, Reuenthal remained silent, and merely listened.    
  
“However, if we look beyond your philandering ways and your appalling lapse in judgment, you are also an indispensable asset to our Kaiser and to our nation. That’s why I want you to reconsider what you are about to do. Drop your pride for once, drop your ambition, and continue being the Kaiser’s loyal subject.”    
  
He had not expected this last bit to come from Oberstein’s mouth, he had to admit. He cast his gaze downward, shaking his head, making an ironic chuckle. “Why would you, of all people, care what I’ll do? Aren’t you the one who wants me out of the picture the most?”    
  
If Lang felt uncomfortable before, he now felt he should be jumping out of his skin and putting as much distance between those two men and himself as possible. It was no secret that Reuenthal hated him and he was afraid of what he could do to him. The very fact that he had been forced to go with Oberstein and put his safety at risk did not please him in the least.   
  
“My personal feelings play no role in this,” Oberstein said, “Haven’t you figured that already?” he emphasized. “It is no secret that you have a deadly ambition. You certainly do have the potential. But do you truly have what it takes?” he asked, and Reuenthal knew what he meant.    
  
“Perhaps,” Lang interfered, reluctantly, “This isn’t the place to discuss this so openly?” But it was precisely what they had wanted. A public place - the safest place - because they did not trust each other. Such an interference had earned him a stern reprimand from Reuenthal before - one that he had taken as a fatal blow to his ego, and the reason he had conducted the investigation. But this time, neither man spared him a look. Reuenthal’s eyes were focused on Oberstein’s, exchanging feelings no artificial eyes should have been able to convey, but yet he could see in them more than he could have ever hoped to see.    
  
“I am no stranger to ambition,” Oberstein said in a quieter tone, “I used to harbor the same sentiments. The only thing that makes us different, Fleet Admiral Reuenthal, is that I realized my limitations and my flaws and gave up that ambition. Sometimes you have to look past your ego to see how far you can actually go. Do you want me to tell you the most likely scenario?” he asked, but did not wait for Reuenthal’s reply. He continued, instead. “Once you raise against the Kaiser, it will not be him who will kill you. You will most likely die at the hands of Fleet Admiral Mittermeyer, or he’ll die at yours, and your rebellion will have been for nothing.”   
  
The very fact that Oberstein had admitted so openly to have harbored something so treasonous within himself came as an utter shock to both Reuenthal and Lang. But what shocked the former more was Oberstein’s grim, probably most accurate prediction.    
  
“That would be most unfortunate,” Reuenthal said weakly.    
  
“What’s even worse is that you feel compelled to rebel out of pride, not ambition.” Oberstein remarked. “You have no clear plan what you would do if you succeeded. You will make everything we’ve all worked so hard to achieve worthless. Do you want that? Is your pride so big to overshadow the well-being of our nation?” Oberstein pressed.   
  
“I get it already,” Reuenthal said harshly, “You got your point across. And although I hate to admit it, damn you, you  _ are  _ right. Are you happy now? You’re fucking always right!”    
  
Oberstein merely nodded his head. “Good. And what will you do moving forward?”   
  
Reuenthal rolled his eyes and sighed, like a child who was being chastised. “First thing tomorrow I will officially apologize to our Kaiser. I will  _ swallow my pride _ ,” he emphasized the last part with irritation, “and assume my rightful place, provided that he forgives me.”   
  
“Doubtlessly he will,” Oberstein reassured him. “You do realize he’s an anomaly, don’t you? He is someone born maybe once in ten million years. Only he, with his unique traits, is able to unify the Universe and rule it justly.”    
  
“I know that.”   
  
“And you and I can’t even hold a candle to him. But what we  _ can  _ do, however, is help his light shine brighter than any other. Our duty is to see things through to the end to the best of our abilities.”    
  
Lang was confused. Oberstein was supposed to hate him and plot his demise. How many times had they argued? How many times had Oberstein been distrusted and offended by this individual? Yet here they were, trying to diffuse a very deadly bomb ready to explode any second. And it seemed Oberstein had succeeded in doing so. The tension had visibly subsided.    
  
“Lang,” Oberstein turned to him now, freezing him on the spot, “This is a good learning point for you. Do not disappoint me.” He muttered something incoherently in reply, sweating even more than before. Reuenthal allowed himself a brief, deep laughter.    
  
“So what now? Are you going to leave me to my devices? How can you trust me?” Oskar von Reuenthal asked genuinely.    
  
“You are not a stupid man, you will back down if you know what’s good for you.”   
  
“And if I don’t?”   
  
“Then so be it. It would be a very unfortunate thing to lose you, but we shall carry on without you. To put it in your terms - you will put a permanent blemish on your name. No one will ever remember you as a hero,” this was the truth, and a painful one at that. “I cannot force you to do things. I’m just giving you a fair chance at redemption,” Oberstein said mechanically. “It’s up to you how you will proceed.”    
  
A long stretch of silence ensued as soon as they finally got their menus and their meals. It gave Reuenthal some time to think. Lang had already forgotten where he even was, dedicating all of his being to the task of devouring his food. Oberstein was cutting his food in an elegant, efficient way, placing reasonably sized morsels in his mouth, chewing neatly and thoroughly.    
  
Oberstein’s approach, Reuenthal mused, was completely utilitarian. What had come as a surprise was the psychology of it - he had first appealed to Oskar’s emotional side, slowly building up to the rational one, until completely revealing his underlying utilitarian motive. He had already had a contingency plan in case these negotiations failed. Yet he could not escape the feeling there had also been something organic to it. Something more heartfelt, but what exactly, he could not pinpoint.    
  
Once they finished their meals, Lang excused himself to the bathroom. Reuenthal grabbed this opportunity to conclude this meeting speaking in earnest.    
  
“I know this advice comes from you, of all people, but I shall take it,” he admitted, “I must admit that I’m having very conflicted feelings about you after this. I don’t know what it is about you, Oberstein, that has always made me feel animosity towards you - there must be a number of factors - but maybe just this once I should adhere to what you say.”   
  
Oberstein allowed himself a snort and a smirk. “In all truthfulness, I’m not so fond of you either, but loving or hating each other isn’t what we were employed to do, now, is it?”    
  
“Yes, you made that crystal clear several times this evening,” Reuenthal said. “Even though it’s coming from you, it’s a solid advice.”   
  
When Lang returned, the two fleet admirals were about to get up, the bill having been settled already. At the entrance, Reuenthal could see Oberstein’s aide waiting, one Rear Admiral Anton Ferner. For a moment, it seemed to him that this man had barely concealed his smile behind the mask of professionalism. And when he looked at Oberstein, for the briefest of moments, a flash of longing appeared, desperate and unfulfilled. Or was it all his fancy?    
  
As he had parted ways with the three of them, it dawned on him - the words the older man had been telling him all night long and how it applied to him personally. The two men had most likely loved each other, but out of Oberstein’s stern principles, that romance had ended before it even began. Surprising even himself, Reuenthal felt a pang of sadness. He was only hoping that he could achieve such a level of self-restraint like his colleague. In a way, the sight before him looked both inorganic and utterly human at the same time.   
  
Over time, Reuenthal would get such sets of small realizations about Oberstein that Anton Ferner had long ago figured out. And he would abandon his anger, replacing it with an odd mixture of pity and admiration.    
  
He was looking at them as they were approaching the car and could hear Oberstein say: “See, Lang, he didn’t shoot you on sight like you feared he would,” which earned him a baffled look from the overweight man, who disappeared in the depths of the landcar. This remark was also followed by a short, deep, hearty laughter coming from Rear Admiral Ferner, who could not help himself. He quickly came to his senses, apologizing profusely to his superiors. Second after, they were on their way.    
  
Involuntarily, Reuenthal smiled at the sight. It surprised him to discover that Oberstein, despite everything, had some sense of humor.    
  


* * *

  
As soon as the Kaiser was buried, the Chief Minister of Military Affairs approached him and took him aside. “This isn’t the end, I need to be sure you understand. We haven’t seen it through.”   
  
Reuenthal nodded in affirmation, slightly irritated because he had already known that. “Yes, I know. I will remain unflinchingly loyal to the Kaiserin and their son.”   
  
“Good,” Oberstein replied. “I’m glad we’re on the same page,” and with that, he turned and left. 


End file.
